


"It's Nice to Meet You, Dean Winchester"

by mewwwwwcats



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-06 14:39:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mewwwwwcats/pseuds/mewwwwwcats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean are on a case when somehow, mysteriously, their beloved '67 impala is turned into a woman. Baby and the brothers have to find and stop an entity with extraordinary powers and no history.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“What… what the…” Dean stared in shock, mouth agape. “Where’s my car?” His voice cracked in fear. He cleared his throat and tried to regain composure. “Who are you?”

Crouched on the pavement where a beautiful black “67 Chevy Impala had been parked gracefully not ten minutes ago, there was a woman. 

A beautiful woman, crouched gracefully. 

Few things could have distracted Dean at that moment, and a beautiful woman was one of them. She had dark brown hair, short and curled. Her eyes were a striking pale grey. They shone at him as she rose slowly from her stance on the street. 

“I think . . . I might be who you’re looking for,” she said softly, a slight drawl to her words. The mysterious woman began to step towards Dean, each foot encased in black leather combat boots that contrasted strangely with her cocktail dress, also black. Now that Dean was starting to use his eyes, he realized that the dress, and the girl, were a bit old fashioned for 2014. The dress high waisted, and although it was cut close to her body, the top was rather chaste and didn’t drop far below her shoulders. It flowed out into a full skirt that stopped at her knees and swished around her as she walked. 

“Well ma’am,” said Dean, flushing slightly. “It’s not exactly a who I’m looking for. My car was parked just where you were-”

The woman interrupted with a chuckle. “Darlin’, how you ask me my name before you assume I’m not who you need.”

Dean was torn between being flattered and being panicked about his car. His Baby. He had no other home to go to, all his weapons were in the secret compartment in the trunk, but it was more than that. He grew up with that car. He carved his initials into the floor. He stuffed his legos into the vents. He built her from the ground up after the crash that almost killed him. That should have killed him. 

The strange woman looked on as his eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry,” grasped Dean, clearing his throat. “It’s just . . . that car is all I got.”

She moved closer, smiling, and placed a delicate hand on his arm. “That sure is nice to hear. Now how about you stop this fussing and ask me my name.”

Dean was left more confused than ever as he gazed into her bright eyes. He sniffed, shook the emotion from his face, and said “Alright then, lady. What is your name?”

Her smile grew, her countenance joyful. “My name is Baby. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Dean”. 

***

Dean didn’t get it. Of course not. This is too much, a concept too strange. But she’s just so familiar. Even if she is just a whack job, he feels like he’s known her all his life. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Dean. He racked his brain, trying to remember if he called his car baby, or if he even said his own name. The panic and adrenaline played with his short term memory, but he’s almost certain he didn’t say either of those things. 

“I am certainly not kidding you,” chastised Baby gently. She raised one eyebrow slightly in disapproval. Her hand was still on his arm. It felt warm, soothing. Her eyes were soft and bright, much older than her youthful face, pouring into Dean like she could see everything. Like she knew his darkest secrets. 

“Um, Dean,” came a voice from behind him. “Are you . . . where’s the car?” 

Dean turned towards the speaker, looking a little lost, like a child, with tears still in his eyes. “Sammy,” he started, but then stopped, not sure how to tell his brother what was happening when he wasn’t sure himself. Best keep it simple. “This is Baby,” he said, nodding towards her. 

“Okay, um. Nice to meet you, Baby. I’m Sam.” He shook her hand quickly and then looked back to Dean. “What’s going on?”

When Dean shook his head helplessly, Baby stepped in. “Dean’s a little confused right now, honey, and to be quite frank so am I.” She stepped forward, lifting her hand from Dean’s arm and turning her piercing gaze up to Sam. “Until a few minutes ago, I was the car. I now appear to be a woman. Imagine that.” Baby smiled to soften her sarcastic tone. 

“But that’s imposs-” Sam started to say. But as someone who was raised to hunt ghosts, kill monsters, and believe in every mythical creature hiding in the dark, he couldn’t reasonably call anything impossible. Instead he looked at the woman more carefully. He studied her, head to toe. Black boots that looked a bit like treads on a tire. Black dress that looked ripped from a 1960’s fashion magazine. Brown hair like the color of the leather interior. Nothing else about her looked remotely like a car; the rest of her tall, sturdy frame was all woman. 

“Can you prove it? Sorry, it’s just. Well, we’ve seen some strange things, but this may take the cake. If you can just give us some proof,” Sam stuttered his way through the question and explanation. 

Baby looked at him for a long time before she answered. She scrutinized his face good and long before sighing in resignation. “Well, if you insist. I suppose it might make this easier on all of us.” Pulling her skirt up, she revealed thigh-high stockings held in place with a delicate garter. And there, just above the hose and before her white bloomers, was an ugly scar. It was deep, raised high above her skin, and spelled “SW DW” in bold writing. 

Sam drew in breath sharply through his nose and reached out towards the initials in shock, stopped only by a sharp look from Baby reminding him of his manners. He turned to his brother. “Dean? Dean, it’s . . . it’s the Impala. She’s a car. A woman and a car.”

Dean ignored his brother. “Does it . . . did it hurt?” he asked softly, tearing his eyes away from his and Sam’s initials to look into his Baby’s eyes. 

“No, no,” she said. “I was a car at the time.” She laughed lightly. Don’t you worry yourself about that. You feeling a little better now?” 

“Yes, ma’am. Had a bit of a shock, but I’m alright now,” Dean could hear himself slip into that childhood drawl he had almost completely lost after traveling so much in his youth. “At least whoever did this to you gave you clothes,” Dean remarked with a shake of his head. 

“That’s not something most men would say.” Baby looked at Dean from under her lashes, suddenly acting like the 20-something she looked like. “Is this body not attractive anymore? I guess times change. I’m sorry to disappoint.”

“What?” said Dean. “No! I built you from the ground up, I’m sure everything is, uh, good under the hood.” His eyes traveled over her body. “I just meant it would be uncomfortable for you. You know. Suddenly human, and naked.” 

“Well, that’s mighty polite of you to consider, Dean Winchester,” Baby smiled broadly at him, clearly more at ease. 

Dean smiled back at her, and they regarded each other for a long moment before Sam gave a little cough and said “This must be a curse of some kind. We need to get back to the motel and start researching.” He grimaced. “At least we know there’s definitely a case in this town.”


	2. Chapter 2

After Sam helpfully points out that since their car is now a woman, they’ll all have to walk back to the motel, the three of them get started. Despite wearing heavy black boots, Baby seems perfectly at ease walking the mile or so back to base. Sam begins the interrogation. Politely. 

“What can you remember? How do you even know how to speak, or walk? Do you feel hungry or tired?”

“I’m gonna pretend you asked the last question because you have good manners, not because you’re a puppy with a new toy,” drawled Baby. “I’m not hungry or tired yet, thank you, although I believe it will happen eventually.”

Sam had the decency to look slightly ashamed for a moment before gazing at her with uncontrollable curiosity. “But how do you know what manners are? You’ve been a car for forty-seven years!”

Dean decided it was time to interject. “Sammy, just shut up. What makes you think any of this is going to make sense?” Having made his point, he offered his arm to Baby and she took it, giving him a warm smile. “We’ll get you some grub when we get to the motel, Baby.”

There were sputters of indignation coming from his left, but Dean decided to ignore it in favor of looking at Baby. His car, now a lovely lady on his arm with some kick-ass combat boots. He noticed her striking eyes, long dark lashes, full lips and delicate porcelain cheek bones. Letting his gaze drift downward, he saw a slender neck leading to elegant collar bones and smooth shoulders. The rest was covered by satiny-looking black fabric and left to the imagination. Which was active. Very active. 

Normally at a time like that Dean would be feeling very warm, from his core outward, but just then he shivered. Probably nothing, he thought. It’s been a rough year, wouldn’t be surprised if I came down with a bug. 

They continued their journey in silence, with Sam pouting and Baby blushing and preening under Dean’s admiring gaze. 

***

Finally back at the motel, Dean felt exhausted. “We’ll definitely have to arrange for some transportation,” he said, giving Sam a meaningful look. Stealing cars was a special talent of Sam’s. Dean in general had too much respect for vehicles to start tearing apart their insides to force them to run. 

“What’s the matter, Dean?” Sam said smirking. “Those bacon cheeseburgers finally catching up with you?”

Dean flushed with embarrassment and anger. “I could still beat you any day, bitch,” he snarled. 

“Whoa, dude. Calm down,” said Sam. “I was just teasing you, like I always do.” He looked at his brother more carefully. “You feeling alright?”

He didn’t get a response until Dean had settled Baby down at one of the beds in front of the tv, offered her something to drink, and promised to get her some dinner soon. Then he stalked back across the room to Sam and hissed “I’m fine, just, don’t say shit like that in front of her.” 

Sam didn’t know what to think. His brother was upset because he teased him about the same thing he’s been teasing him about for years. He was treating his car like a princess, and okay that wasn’t really new but he really shouldn’t be so attracted to his car. This whole deal was just weird, but he didn’t have any answers yet so focused on the task at hand. The case. 

“So get this,” he started, but then stopped. He sat impatiently on the other bed and waited for his brother and his car to stop acting like love-sick teenagers and start paying attention. How is this my life now, he thought. Eventually both Baby and Dean looked to Sam and he begin again. “So . . . we came to this town because we noticed some strange deaths in the paper. That’s sort of just what we do… do you know what we do?” 

“I know everything about you boys,” replied Baby. “You’re hunters, you found a job, go on.”

“Okay, right, so . . . deaths. Three separate occasions of death by natural causes, but each person was completely healthy before their death, and nothing came up in the autopsies except for heart failure. The first one was Cheryl Branson, aged 29. She was found dead at the chocolate factory where she worked. Next was Kyle Schmitt, 33, found dead at home in bed with his blow up doll. Finally, Alice Carmichael. She was an 8 year old girl. They found her in the background clutching her teddy bear.” Sam paused, shuffled his papers and rubbed his nose before continuing. “No previous heart conditions from any of the victims, they didn’t know each other, and they died in entirely unrelated places.” He stopped again and looked up at his listeners. 

Baby was staring right at him, face dark but eyes focused. Dean was looking at Baby, watching emotions travel softly through her eyes and mouth. He had looked over the facts a hundred times and was much more interested in the enthralling young woman next to him. Close enough that their thighs were just touching. 

“So what now?” said Baby. “Do you reckon me turning from a car to a human is somehow related to all this tragedy?”

Dean answered, “Usually there’s not more than one supernatural happening in one town at one time. We don’t know how this happened, but it tells us what sort of thing we’re dealing with here. It’s gotta be something with a ton of mojo to be able to do all this.” He gestured one hand towards her. 

“We still have to handle this like any other case. First interview family and friends, get the police reports, then research.” Sam stood up and closed the file with the newspaper clippings. “But before all that, we’ll need a ride. And I don’t think we should steal one this time. It’s a small town, the local PD will know which cars are hot.”

“What exactly are you suggesting?” Dean asked suspiciously. “We can’t exactly hop on Baby’s back and ride her around town.”

His brother gave a frustrated sigh and said “No, Dean, I’m talking about legally procuring a car. We can rent one with a phony credit card.”

“That’s not exactly legal,” Baby pitched in with one of her slow, soft smiles. “But I’d much prefer it to trying to carry around you giants. I can’t imagine it would be as easy as a woman as it was as a car.”

The boys laughed, then stopped as they considered how many miles Baby had already carried them. Whoever did whatever kind of magic to turn their beloved car into a breathing, talking, gorgeous woman, gave them a gift.


	3. Chapter 3

It was Dean who insisted they order in, despite a clear lack of a table or chairs in their seedy motel room. He still felt drained from the previous walk, but made his excuse concern for Baby having to walk in combat boots. Sam called for pizza and they ate it out of the box, sitting on the beds.

Sitting next to Baby, eating greasy pizza and drinking pop out of the ancient vending machines from the hall, Dean started to lose his cocky smile. His face hardened, full lips turned down harshly, and he stopped the flirty banter that had been constant since his car had turned human. There in the furrow of his brow and the darkness of his heart he knew this was not where someone like Baby should be sitting, not what she should be forced to eat. She was the finest lady he had ever met, except for maybe his mother. They would have gotten along so well.

“Dean?” Baby’s soft voice gently entered his consciousness.

He looked up and realized both she and Sam were staring at him expectantly. “Sorry, drifted off, what now?”

“I was saying I could go get the car and maybe you and Baby could pick up some clothes for her. She’ll attract a lot of attention dressed like that.” Sam turned towards Baby. “Not that, you know, you don’t look great, that’s actually the problem, you look, well, um-”

“We get the picture, Sam,” Dean snapped. Baby just smiled politely. “Once you get the car you should interview the first family. Baby and I will get her some new digs and go to the police station for the case reports. We can meet up for dinner after that. Sound good?”

Sam hesitated, eyeing Dean and Baby. “Yeah, sounds like a plan,” he said carefully. “Are you two . . leaving right away, or?”

After glancing at Baby, Dean answered. “I think we’ll take a minute here. Baby might like to freshen up or whatever ladies do.” In truth Dean simply wanted a nap. And he certainly didn't like Sam insinuating that Baby would be the type of girl to jump into bed. Normally he didn’t see any shame in a woman enjoying some casual sex, especially with him, but this woman . . . she was different. Pure and perfect. There’s no way she would even think about sleeping with Dean.

Sam stood up from the bed and stacked the pizza boxes near the door. He turned back to his car and his brother and shifted his weight awkwardly, wiping his hands on his pants. “So yeah, um, I guess I’ll get going.”

Baby stood up as well, and Dean felt the warmth of her closeness leave his skin with regret. “Go on then, honey. I’m just gonna take a quick shower before we get going. I smell quite a bit like motor oil, which may be acceptable in a car, but is rather unfortunate in a woman.” She paused to shoot Dean a concerned smile. “And you, Dean, you look like you could use a rest.”

He answered with a yawn and a grin. “I wouldn't mind a nap. Just wake me if you need anything,” he said as he stretched out over the ugly motel comforter, shoes on, arms crossed, and already halfway asleep.

Sam left, locking the door behind him, and Dean, although exhausted, became suddenly hyper-aware that he was alone with Baby. He heard her light footsteps over the dirty carpet and peaked at her under heavy lids. As sleep washed over him, he imagined her as a toy ballerina; graceful, tiny, delicate movements around a surreal setting. His buzzing skin and aching heart followed him to oblivion.

_Blood pumping, heart racing, hands shaking. Dean slams the gas pedal and wills the car to go faster even though he knows it’s too late. Every heartbeat trying to give him life just spills more blood. Darkness is chasing him, coming up behind quick and all he can do is try to run. He looks down at the Impala’s leather seats, soaking up blood and he realizes darkness is here already. His life-blood draining, the black pressing, he’s no longer driving but the car is still moving forward. Ahead of him he hears voices; Mom, Dad, Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Sammy. Oh Sammy. They call him on, “it’s your turn now, Dean.” He tries to fight it but he knows this is how it was always going to end, dying, dying for-_

A warm hand, brushing his forehead. A soft voice calling him. “Dean, Dean! Wake up now, it’s just a dream.”

Dean’s eyes flew up and he gasped for breath. “Baby?”

Baby knelt on the bed next to him, she was dressed only in a towel wrapped around her, hair damp, and concern painted over her face. “Hush now, Dean. It’s over now.” Her gentle hand stroked his cheek until his breathing slowed.

Dean trembled as he wrapped his arms around Baby’s waist, nuzzling his face in closer, searching for more warmth and comfort. She pulled him in, cradling his face against her rib cage and murmuring comfort words. A shiver pulsed through his body and he held on tighter. “Baby…” It was almost a sob. She squeezed him in response and continued to whisper soothing words in his ear.

***

An hour later, Dean woke up. Not suddenly like he usually did, either from the constant nightmares or his hunter’s instinct that told him he’s been still for too long. He woke softly, eyes still closed, letting his other senses wake first. First he felt cold, very cold, but there seemed to be a source of heat to his left. He burrowed closer to that and let it’s scent fill his nose. It was like leather, old leather, the kind that’s kept him company all his life. There was more, too, smell of gunpowder and salt, familiar as well. It would smell exactly like his car if there wasn't another scent, delicately overwhelming, the scent that only comes from a woman-  
 _Oh!_ Dean eye’s snapped open. Laying on the bed next to him, still dressed in only a towel, and still asleep, was Baby. She was on her stomach, an arm gently thrown across his chest, and her face turned towards him on the pillow. Her mouth, so close to his, was slightly open in sleep.

Dean was mesmerized by those lips, plump, luscious, barely parted. He slowly reach out, almost overwhelmed with the desire to touch them, to see if they were as soft as they looked, when her eyes opened.

“Oh!” she said. She quickly pulled her arm back from Dean, clutched her towel closer and stood up. Her pale skin flushed red as she looked down at the floor and retreated to the motel bathroom. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to-you had a nightmare, I don’t know if you remember-”

“I remember,” said Dean, his voice gravelly from sleep. He sat up and grinned sheepishly. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I don’t usually . . .” he paused and looked down, clearing his throat. He did usually have nightmares. He just didn't usually let anyone else see them. He didn't usually reach for comfort like a child.

“It’s okay, Dean.” He looked at Baby, who had paused in the doorway. She smiled at him, a comfort smile, a mother smile, and he knew she meant it. That is was okay to reach for help, to have a moment of weakness.

It’s okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it's been a while since I've updated, I've just started school back up and I'm getting extra hours at work and all that. But don't give up on me! Chapter four is where the action starts. Also fluff. You're gonna love it.


End file.
